


2018 | queen

by oliau22



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 1973, 2018, Alternate Universe - Future, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Funny, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Queen - Freeform, Romantic Fluff, Science Fiction, Swearing, john deacon and roger taylor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-09-25 00:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17110979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliau22/pseuds/oliau22
Summary: in which john deacon is a struggling musician, he and his bandmates haven't gotten very far in the music industry and they're all pretty broke. it's safe to say things aren't looking up for the young adult. not until one day when he wakes up and he's not in 1973.





	1. chapter one / John

_somewhere in London| Thursday morning | 1973_

John Deacon sat alone at a small round kitchen table. three empty seats faced him, they seemed to be taunting him. saying _haha, you can't sleep, so you're sitting alone while your friends are getting sweet sleep._ John scoffed and pushed the chair occupied by him away softly. the brunette hated not being able to sleep. he always stayed up at night watching the light from cars driving by through his window, which faced the busiest street in London. the soft sound of his roommates snoring annoyed him greatly. he wanted to be in bed, snoring deeply like the latter. but he couldn't fucking sleep. it was 6:45 am and John had been up for about 15 minutes by then. he had already made himself breakfast, which wasn't something he usually did, knowing food was something the boys couldn't eat vast quantities of. money was scarce for the new band of Queen. they had spent all of it on a small apartment and musical equipment. even worse the apartment is tiny as fuck. it had two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen and a small room for lounging. the lounge room had room for a small couch that fit two people, and a telly stand, which didn't have a telly, but a shitton of dust. John brushed his hand across the dusty surface, he laughed. "gross," John scoffed as he rubbed his dusted fingers together.

maybe he could try and go back to sleep. there were about two hours exactly until Deacon had to go to work. he could try and fit some sleep in. though most of those two hours would be spent trying to fall asleep. John sighed aloud and plopped himself down on the miniature, slightly uncomfortable sofa. though the house was small and dirty there was a part of the flat that John enjoyed sincerely. there was a small, well-hidden basement that the landlord hadn't told the lot about. John was the only one to discover it. he made it soundproof so when he couldn't sleep he could go to that hidden space and make up some bass riffs. he could do that instead of sleeping, but he'd have to sneak upstairs to the room that he and the drummer of his band shared. Roger Taylor was the worlds lightest sleeper. he could wake up from someone walking up the creaky, but silent stairs. it'd be a suicide mission for John to try and acquire his bass without waking the sleeping drummer. John cursed under his breath and picked at a loose string on the couch. he couldn't sit on the lousy couch for another two hours. he needed to do something. eventually, John concluded that he was going to go on a jog, to clear his head.

once John had returned home from the thirty-minute jog, a light was on inside. John sighed loudly with relief. he hoped the roommate that had woken up was Roger. the two had excellent one on one conversations about pretty much anything. out of the three men living in the flat together John got along with Roger the most. The two had a lot in common, which made it easier for them to chat and engage in small talk. plus, Roger was fun to talk to, he always had wild reckless ideas that made John laugh. John approached the door and turned the brass handle slowly, he didn't want to startle the awoken bandmate by walking in loudly. "it's just John, don't shoot me," he whisper-shouted when he entered the house. He always did that just in case he was mistaken for a burglar or something of the sort. Brian May and his large curls peered from the kitchen.

"Oh, John, you've been out?" Brian questioned and looked at the cheap watch that rested on his bony wrist. "its 7:40." Brian stated with a quizzical look on his face. John nodded as we walked toward Brian in the kitchen. "couldn't sleep again?" the taller asked as John silently passed him.

"Yeah, that's always the case." John sighed, making a cup of tea for himself. "I woke up at 6:30 this morning after only getting two hours of sleep," he held his warm cup of tea and moped over to the chair he was sitting in earlier that morning. "I couldn't bring myself to go back to sleep so I came down here and had some toast. unfortunately, I still couldn't fall asleep after that affair so I just went out for a run. what brings you up so early, Brian?" John filled the curly male in before taking a sip of his warm tea and leaning back into his uncomfortable wooden chair.

"fucking Freddie was snoring so goddamned loud I woke up, couldn't go back to sleep because of the noise, so I came down here. I've only been awake for 10 minutes at the least." Brian stated and took a long sip from his tea. he walked over to the table and accompanied the lonely John, filling in one of the chairs that had taunted the other 30 minutes ago. the two drank their tea in silent until John finished his cup.

"it's about time for me to get off to work," he said pushing in his chair quietly. "I'll be back 'round 5, keep those party animals in check." John chuckled lightly nodding his head off to the staircase, referencing to Freddie and Roger.

"Alright mate," Brian said after he took the last sip of this drink.

"I think I'm gonna nip to the store later, you want me to pick anything up for you?" he asked pushing in his chair lightly. John shook his head no and grabbed his car keys.

"I'm all set for now, but I'll ring you if I can think of anything," he said before he left, closing the light wooden door behind him. he drove away in his car, leaving the flat with his three lads in it behind. 


	2. chapter two / Roger

_somewhere in London | Thursday night - early Friday morning| 1973_

Roger Taylor stirred in his sleep. sounds from the stairs woke him. _it's probably John,_ Roger thought himself as he sat up in his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Roger leaned down from the side of the bed, he looked to see the if his bedmate occupied bottom bunk. sure enough, John was missing from his bed along with his slippers. Roger sighed aloud, he stepped down on the cold wooden ladder that led him down from the top bunk. he slipped on his beige slippers that sat at the bottom of his ladder. the blonde had to go talk to John, he had to talk the younger back into bed or he'll never sleep. Roger looked at the small analogue clock that rested on the wall above John's multiple _Who_ posters. it read, 03:12, f _uck, he must've not slept at all._ Roger walked out of the small bedroom with light footsteps. if the blonde wasn't able to talk John into coming back upstairs he wouldn't sleep at all. Roger slowly walked down the steep steps. he had nothing but a loose, holy t-shirt and a pair of old boxers on, the band couldn't afford proper pyjamas so they resorted to wearing old beaten up clothes that they wouldn't dare to wear in public. he tugged lightly on his torn shirt as he reached the bottom of the stairs, hoping not to be too exposed for John's liking. as he walked through the small, main level of the flat, Roger realised he couldn't see his flatmate anywhere, which was surprising for the sleepy blonde. he was sure John wasn't in bed when he checked, plus the shuffling footsteps that had woken him up not even 5 minutes prior. Roger inspected the area again before he started calling out for the other. "John?" he whisper-shouted, Roger had no intention of interrupting the other boys' sleep. he would never hear the end of that. there was no answer from John. "John?" when there wasn't an answer from the other party again, Roger walked to a different part of the house, the kitchen. he tugged on his shirt again, this time holding it down while he walked around, "John?" he whispered again, this time a little louder. Roger heard a loud clang sound and a sharp fuck right after.

"Roger?" a head poked out from behind the kitchen wall. wavy long hair followed quickly with the head, John's sleep deprived face showed concern and a small hint of anger.

"John?" Roger questioned tugging at his shirt once again. "where the fuck did you come from?" the blonde shifted to try and see what was behind that wall. John shrugged and motioned his hand towards the wall, as to say, l _et me show you. Roger obeyed the youngers motions and walked towards him. when the two had gotten down to the small, steep wooden staircase the John seemed to_ have come from, Roger was once again filled with questions. "uh, John? what's this?" the drummer asked.

"this is my basement," John said flatly. He lead Roger to the bottom of the staircase where John disappeared to the left. Roger, still plagued with confusion, picked up the pace and jogged down the stairs, only to find a whole room.

"what?" Is all Roger could say. how did he not know about this? the landlord had given them a whole tour of the house, showing them every room, crack in the wall, tear in the carpet, etc. why hadn't she mentioned this part? Roger looked around, the room was soundproofed and John's bass was perked up against one of the four corners in the room. a small amp sat next to the bass guitar, along with a couch and short, ugly coffee table. "holy crap." he spoke again.

"I found this room one day when I was snooping at like, 3 am," John explained. "I didn't want to tell any of you because then I wouldn't have a spot to chill at 3 am." he chuckled to himself. John got up and walked to the other couch, the one with his bass next to it. "have a seat." he pointed at the couch he was previously sitting at, so the two could be facing each other. Roger did as requested, he wanted to hear the rest of John's story so he obliged. "I had gone to some garage sales and thrift stores to find the furniture and the soundproofing equipment. I wanted to be able to write some bass riffs or even songs down here without having to worry about waking the lot of you," he said with a slight smile on his face.

"I see," Roger nodded, resting his hand on his chin. "I came looking for you because I want you to come back to bed," he said. telling John to go back to bed was a risky topic, but Roger cared about his friend's health, so he brought it up.

"how do you mean come back," John quizzed Roger, "I was never in bed," he said reaching for his bass. the brunette picked up the expensive instrument and plugged it into the tiny amplifier that he had rested next to him. his long, lanky fingers started plucking the strings lightly.

"Jesus John, you need sleep." Roger sighed, he had a hard time thinking of an argument to get his flatmate into bed. he knows about his sleeping issues and habits, but according to Brian, he had been up since 6:45 that morning. it was concerning for Roger, especially since his health could be compromised. his face was already showing sleep deprivation, eye bags, prominent cheekbones, you name it. he always looked fatigued. Roger hated seeing him like that. "I'm going back to bed," Roger said sternly. "I'd like it if you'd join me." his tone lighter that time. John put down his bass and unplugged the amp from the wall, he scoffed and followed his sleepy roommate up the step. he flicked the light switch off when he reached the top of the stairs. John chuckled a bit, catching the drummer's attention. "what is it?" he asked turning around to face the taller man.

"you have a hole in your underwear." John pointed out, chuckling. Roger's hand shot to his behind, searching for the so-called hole that John was referencing. sure enough, Roger found a large hole on the left side of his rear. his face was dusted with a slight blush, fortunately, the two were in the dark, only the light from the moon outside to guide them through the house.

"thanks," he said quietly, John picked up on a bit of embarrassment as well. John stepped in front of the blonde, so he didn't have to embarrass him more as they walked up the second flight of stairs together. the pair filed into the small room they shared, and right away Roger climbed up to his bunk, rubbing his eyes in hope to stay up a bit longer. John was fighting with his trousers, trying to take them off without making too much noise. they both knew Freddie would hold it over their heads for years if they woke him from his 'beauty rest.' none of them dared to do so, Freddie woke up when he wanted to. once John was out of his uncomfortable, dress trousers, he slipped on an old stretched and torn band t-shirt he acquired from a friend not too long ago. though it was homemade, it said "Queen" in sloppy handwriting. John cherished it heavily. he loved how thoughtful and creative his friends were, and Roger knew that. John always talked about how grateful he was to have such loving friends.

"Alright mate?" Roger questioned after he finally laid back down in bed. "I'll be off to sleep now, I trust you to at least try and get some sleep. I don't want you looking like a zombie tomorrow." Roger expressed his concern and closed his eyes.

"Yeah, I understand," John wined like a kid and crawled into bed. the rustling of John's sheets and duvet lulled Roger back into a deep sleep. and for John, surprising, it lulled him to sleep as well.


	3. chapter three / brian

_somewhere in London| Friday morning | 1973_

Brian May sat uncomfortably on the sofa that he had picked up at a flea market weeks ago. though it was ugly and falling apart, it was the cheapest kind of furniture in the whole place. his guitar rested peacefully in his lap and laid against his chest. it wasn't hooked up to any sort of speaker, so the light to the light sound of the messy, not entirely composed riffs filled the silence of the heavy, early morning air. the only other person that was awake was John Deacon, who had already left for work. Roger and Freddie liked their sleep, and both had early afternoon jobs, so they could sleep into the late morning if they wanted. after about twenty minutes of just tinkering around with the sleek red guitar, Brian stood up and laid the instrument lightly down on the cushioned furniture. he sighed loudly and checked his watch, it read 9:37. the tall male grabbed his keys and slipped out of the flat.

on his way to work, Brian was in an endless spiral of thoughts. when the band would finally capture their big break, when they would finally have enough money to purchase a reasonable amount of food for the week, etc, etc. his work wasn't far from the small London flat, but it was a long enough car ride to get him lost in his thoughts. he thought of the men that he lived with, the two brunettes and the blonde. how two of the three were party animals, they sometimes partied so hard it was genuinely worrying for Brian. he had a constant fear that the two, Freddie and Roger, would get themselves in jail, or the hospital, or maybe even a coffin. they got so wasted sometimes, Brian would have to carry the two up the stairs in fear that they'd fall down the narrow staircase and break their fucking necks. luckily, they haven't. yet. then there's John. the "quiet" one of the group. he was peaceful and extremely entertaining to be around. he wasn't a partier at all, his version of a good Friday night was sitting on the floor playing bass solos with Brian. Brian enjoyed stuff like that more than a crazy bar and tons of drugs as well. he preferred staying at home, maybe reading a book or two about the stars or something of the sort. or just as John likes, playing his guitar and making up fun solos with his mates. that seemed much more amusing to him.

his thoughts had taken up the whole car ride because by the time he zoned back into reality Brian was at his desired location, some boring convenience store that pays him minimum wage. he couldn't get a better job, assuming the band, Queen would somehow get somewhere he didn't apply for anything besides the grocery store that he pulled into just seconds ago. Brian chuckled to himself and turned off his car engine. the warmth from the interior of the car was disintegrated the second Brian opened the car door. the wind stung his unsuspecting face as he stepped out of the low sitting car. he closed his door with more force than he usually did, and jogged inside to the store. Brian's assigned task was to restock the shelves, and sometimes he was a cashier due to his fast mental math abilities. happy to be inside and away from the abnormally strong winds, Brian took a deep breath and discarded of his coat in the employee's lounge. his lanky legs carried his skinny body to the central area of the store. it was late morning, a little around 10:00, so costumers walked around the rather sizeable convenience store. many were just browsing, but some had carts filled up with food and drinks. Brian made it his duty to make himself as hidden as possible and just do his job. he contacted his boss and got to work on restocking shelves, avoiding the ones occupied by costumes or co-workers.

when his work shift was finally over after six agonizing hours, Brian's limbs ached. he had been reshelving food items all day, making his muscles, especially his arms, terribly sore. Brian walked to the employee's lounge and grabbed his jacket quickly, he wanted to get out of there quick. just to be in the comfort of his home seemed impossible and farther away than ever. when he reached his car, Brian opened the door carefully and slid his lean body in. sitting down was a luxury he forgot existed. Brian wanted nothing but to get back to his flatmates. but he knew that the only one home would be John, which isn't an issue, but the flat is more lively when the whole group is together. Brian slid his keys into his car and started the engine, still thinking about the quiet John Deacon as he did it. John was probably back at the flat sitting on the floor with his bass hooked up to a mini, easily portable amp that the pair had purchased together. they were the only ones that had instruments that needed an amp so they decided to invest in one that was quickly moved. a smile threatened on the corner of Brian's lips as he continued to think of the brunette. keeping his eyes on the road, Brian let his thoughts roam randomly.

Brian pulled into the alleyway that leads to his garage, his car jerking around as the rubbish road grew bumpier. the damn government needs to fix these God-forsaken roads, Brian thought with an irritable look on his face. not wanting to bother with the large door that controlled access to the garage, Brian left his car sitting in the driveway. he walked with little to no pep in his step, being entirely spent from work 30 minutes before. when the lanky man reached the white door that fit with the brown, brick exterior of the house, he knocked lightly. Brian was known to scare the living shit out of his flatmates when he returned home with no warning, so he was making it a routine to knock before he entered. "it's just me John," he warned. "don't freak out!" Brian removed and set his coat on the small wooden table that laid to the left of the front door. John peeked out from the wall that separated the kitchen from the main hallway that leads to the stairs.

"Hey, May," Deacon said with a miniature smile. the skinny man had his bass hanging from a strap on his shoulders. the guitar rested on top of his stomach. his arms on the desired places, one high up on the neck of the sleek instrument and one rested in the crook of the body, just above the strings. the sight brought a smile to Brian's thin face.

"Alright, Deacon?" Brain asked walking past the other and turning to the kitchen. he was hungry as fuck. John turned and rested his body on the thick drywall. "been better," he sighed and plucked a small, not so put together riff on his bass.

"Roger was fucking with me earlier, not trying to be mean, but he kinda got on my nerves." Brian nodded. Roger was good at that, good might even might be an understatement. "he was being all, what's the term?" John stood there and thought for a second like he was at a complete loss of words. literally. "he was all, lovey-dovey. it was so strange." John jumped back into reality as he seemed to grab the set of words he was searching for.

"I can see that," Brian replied. Roger flirted with every living thing, it was almost like his brand. it was something he was born to do.

"no," John retorted, sliding his lanky hands up and down the neck of this instrument. "it wasn't like normal Roger flirting. it was so strange. he was calling me all the names Freddie calls everybody. like, darling and dear," John mocked Freddie's flamboyant, alto voice. Brian chuckled, but even for Roger that behaviour was bizarre.

"that is quite strange," Brian remarked as he prepared himself a bland, peanut butter sandwich. the taller listened to John rant for a few minutes until the brunette left to go finish up his practice session with his bass. the soft, almost groovy bass echoed through the small flat. Brian sat down on one of the four wooden chairs that circled the scratched up wooden table. another piece he picked up from the flea market for a meagre price. Brian slowly ate his boring sandwich while he listened to the bassist play. later that day Roger Taylor and Freddie Mercury made their way back to the flat as well. the sound of the door opening and the loud pair walking in qued John to put his bass away. typically when the flat was filled with people it got rather noisy and adding an instrument hooked up to a speaker would only add to the migraines that poor Brian May had to deal with.

"hello loves!" Freddie exclaimed upon walking into the quiet house. Brian watched John physically cringe from the loud noises that had interrupted the peaceful, but slightly awkward silence.

"hello, Freddie, Roger," Brian smiled at his mates while he did the dishes. he was assigned the "mom" friend of the four. he wasn't stupid and reckless and he had self-control and common sense, so naturally, he would be. it was Brian's job to clean and do household chores, but he didn't mind it at all. he enjoyed the house clean, so he kept it that way. but Roger and John's room was a whole different story. Brian only kept his room (that he shared with Freddie) clean, along with the whole first level of the flat. he let John and Roger chose for themselves if their rooms were clean or not. which most of the time, it wasn't. the bedroom wasn't a pigsty, but it was messy. lots of the time Roger had clothes all over the floor, and John's bed was very unkept.

"what's my favourite man doing?" Roger asked no one, looking around for what Brain assumed what the bassist, hiding in the lounge room. there it is again, Brian thought to himself. the weird flirting. Roger didn't seem to notice the curious look Brian shot him. the blonde wandered off to the room where John was keeping to himself. Brian could hear mumbling coming from the thin walls, but he couldn't make out what the two were saying. Brian turned to Freddie, who was now gathering items to make a drink.

"have you noticed any strange behaviour from Rog?" Brian questioned after a comfortable silence (besides Freddie clinking glasses together and the mumbling from the other room) went on for a bit. Freddie nodded and put his glass down on the faux marble countertop.

"yeah a bit, why do you ask dear?" Freddie replied, taking a sip from whatever concoction he just created, the older male showed no reaction to the liquor. Brian went on to explain things about John and Roger, how John was confused about why Roger was showing him so much attention lately, and whatever was up with the peculiar flirting. "oh my," Freddie chuckled after he listened to the curly man explain his concerns. "Roger has no way of hiding his feeling does he?" shorter male chuckled when he noticed the quizzical look on Brian's face.

"what do you mean, Freddie?" Brian questioned, eager to know what Freddie was thinking aloud about. Brian had known about weird tension between the two youngest members of his band, but he didn't think much of it. "Freddie, what feelings?" Brian pryed again, trying to get the truth out of his flatmate.

"Roger sucks at hiding his feelings for that little man over there." Freddie chuckled and pointed at the two, they were talking, but Roger seemed extremely close to the other, and John didn't even look uncomfortable.

"feelings?' Brian asked, still with that quizzical look on his face. Freddie nodded.

"how have you not noticed darling?" Freddie laughed. "it's pretty fucking obvious, just look at those two blokes." once again Brian's attention shifted to the two males sitting close to each other. there was some light, low-key touches. like a touch on the arm or a hand rested on John's upper thigh when Roger let out a hysterical laugh. Brian didn't understand how oblivious he had been. John didn't start complaining about Roger's clinginess until just a few hours prior. why is Brian the only person to just now realise that Roger Taylor fancies John Deacon?


	4. chapter four // Freddie

_somewhere in London | Saturday afternoon - Saturday night | 1973_

Freddie Mercury hated working more than he hated bland people. but there he was, working at a fucking grocery store. he was supposed to be a legend, a fucking superstar, not some peasant working for other peasants. Freddie sat down for his break. he didn't get a lunch break because his shift started after 12:00. that didn't stop him from eating. there wasn't much food at the flat he and his bandmates lived at, so he bought a small snack from a vending machine in the lounge room of his work.

after he finished eating his small protein bar, Freddie got back to work. though his break hadn't concluded yet, the brunette didn't have anything do to besides sit around, so he finalised his break early. plus, maybe if he worked a little bit more, he would be able to go home earlier and get to see his best friends and flatmates sooner. while Freddie did his work he thought about his friends. John, the quiet one, he played a brilliant bass riff though, the way his hands moved within the frets and on the strings. it was fascinating for Freddie, before Brian and John he had never seen anyone's fingers move that quick. recently Freddie gained knowledge that Roger fancied the infamous John Deacon. which isn't surprising. anyone could fall in love with the soft, kind, shy John Deacon. but Roger Taylor isn't the kind to fancy someone. he's more of a fuck-and-leave kind of person. which explains his constant complaining, and need of _"someone to love_ ," Freddie has heard the blonde say stuff like that many times in the past few months. _maybe John sparked something_ , Freddie thought as he walked around the store, looking for something to do. he enjoyed talking to the people that were shopping, but he made sure he wasn't being too obnoxious. he had to save that for the flat. Freddie knew that John and Brian loved their peace, so when he got home he made sure to be as loud and disrupting as he could be, just so he could annoy the living shit out of his flatmates. the brunette giggles to himself as he turned into the produce aisle. while he waltzed through that small section of the store he thought about his flatmate Brian. he thought about his beautiful black curls that everyone seemed to love except for the curly male himself. that thought made Freddie sour, he didn't like the idea of his friend Brian disliking anything about himself. Freddie was confident his friends made him soft.

finally, a customer needed some help from Freddie, and this time it gave him some time to stop thinking about Brian. the costumer needed Freddie to take them to the cold food section so she could get ice cream. thankfully for Freddie, the cold food section was all the way on the other side of the large grocery store. Freddie walked with the middle-aged woman as he guided her to the other side of the building. he made small talk with her but she seemed to not be interested, so eventually, Freddie dismissed her by telling her the rest of the directions from where they were. he kind of wanted to work at the cashier. he could talk with actual people and have traffic throughout his shift instead of having inconsistent jobs that lasted two minutes.

Freddie got off his shift about an hour later and he was able to go back home, but first, he had to go pick up Roger from his job. they both started work at similar times but Roger worked a bit later than Freddie, so the older just went over to the auto shop that Roger worked at while he finished his shift. Freddie arrived at the building about twenty minutes later. there he was greeted by a grease-covered Roger. the younger was wearing a dirtied denim jumpsuit, tools and a pair of thick felt gloves peaked out from the pockets that rested waist high. most of Roger's chest was exposed, Freddie assumed it was because he got sweaty working all day, but there was a possibility it was because he liked showing off his chest. Roger offered a hug to his friend, but his condition and cleanliness caused him to refuse. "sorry darling," Freddie scoffed, "you're way too dirty for me to even _touch_. maybe after you tidy up at home, then I'll hug you." Roger laughed at this. that was the exact answer he was expecting from Freddie.

"so how was work, Fred?" Roger asked while he put his remaining tools onto a tool bench. Freddie rested all his weight on one leg and put a hand on his hip.

"it was just as boring as any day." Freddie dramatically sighed to his friend. Roger knew Freddie wasn't a working kind of person. he liked to perform for people, that's why he knew being in a band would be his kind of job. but no one in the band could afford to not be working since money is so scarce for the boys. they'll make it one day though, Freddie knows it. "there was this one lady though," Freddie remembered." she was being kind of rude to me and I didn't like it. I don't deserve to be treated that way." Freddie always seemed to act like he was some sort of king or queen. Queen seemed to fit the title more because of his over dramatised attitude and his feminity.

"Fred are you sure you're not just overreacting?" Roger asked and he grabbed his street clothes, he didn't like going home in his work jumpsuit so he always packed a jumper and a pair of trousers for the road.

"no Rog! of course, I'm not joking!" he said, sounding genuinely offended. Freddie as well aware that he overreacted most times though. "I was trying to have a conversation with her and she was barely there. like she didn't participate in the conversation at all!" Freddie exclaimed loudly. some mechanics turned their heads and shot Roger dirty looks. Roger weakly smiled at his co-workers and then shot a dirty look at Freddie.

"keep it down, would ya?" Roger hissed. his co-workers disliked him enough already. since he, being the newest person to work there, was so easy to pick on, they targeted him. Roger would probably have to explain Freddie's flamboyant, queer persona to them later, which, most likely end up with getting picked on even more. "let's finish this talk in the car, hm?" Roger demanded walking quickly out of the auto shop.

"Rog, what's wrong love?" Freddie asked, picking up on Roger's obvious embarrassment. Roger scoffed and walked up to his car. he was much taller than the vehicle, and that made Freddie audibly chuckle. the blonde fondled his pocket, looking for his keychain that held his car keys. "Fred, I said let's finish in the car." the younger said sternly. this new attitude startled Freddie. Roger never talked like that, let alone to his friends. Roger opened his car door with force and waved at Freddie as if he was saying _the cars unlocked, get in_. Freddie complied quickly with Roger's silent request since he didn't want to piss the latter off anymore. "ugh, I just _fucking hate_ those guys." Roger spoke up once the pair was inside the small car. Roger is known to use vulgar language, but he never used it in such an angry tone before. Freddie was surprised by how peculiar his friend was acting.

"why do you hate them so much, Rog?" Freddie asked, making sure to evaluate his questions before asking them, weary that it could anger the blonde. Roger looked up to the roof of the car and sighed loudly. his temper was something that he didn't express much. he was more of a bottle all your feelings up guy, like a high school jock.

"I need a cigarette," Roger responded. his hands reached for the glovebox on the passenger side of the petite car. Roger pulled out a pack of Marlboro reds, his favourite. while offering one to Freddie, Roger lit his own with the car's cigarette lighter. the brunette accepted the cigarette from his friend and waited for Roger to finish with the lighter. "they're just fucking jerks" Roger pouted as he blew out smoke from his first drag. the blonde went on and on about how much his co-workers picked on him, sometimes even going as far as beating him up. Freddie felt so bad, but all he did was take small puffs off his cigarette and listen to Roger rant.

"Jesus Rog," Freddie blew out stinky smoke. "why didn't you tell us before? we could've done something." Roger laughed at this response, his laugh followed by a raspy cough.

"I didn't want to tell you guys because I was scared you'd think I was a pussy," Roger looked down at his lap, his face slightly red from embarrassment. it sounded stupid coming out of his mouth, Freddie's furrowed brows seemed to think so as well.

"Roger," Freddie's voice was smooth and almost mother-ish. like he was consoling his son who was sad or something of the sort. "we know you're not a pussy." he laughed putting a comforting hand on the smaller blonde. "but you can't keep your feelings bottled up like that, we won't think any less of you if you told us stuff like this." a small smile spread onto Roger's face, he started the car. the pair had been sitting in the cold car for about thirty minutes at that point.

"Thanks, Fred," Roger said, his pissy mood seemed to have faded. the pair drove home in silence, though it wasn't an awkward silence. in the middle of the ride, Roger grabbed himself and Freddie another cigarette, so the two smoked together quietly.

when Roger pulled into the garage that the four shared, he dismissed Freddie and parked the car behind Brian's. Freddie walked out of the alleyway and up to the door to the shared flat. he could hear john's bass playing some sort of complex riff, followed by Brian's loud electric guitar. the brunette pulled out his house key and let himself in, leaving the door slightly ajar for Roger. Roger wasn't allowed a house key because of an incident that happened months ago, so Freddie just leaves the door slightly open for the latter. Freddie walked in the house and down the hallway only to find his two best friends sitting on the ground next to each other, they were writing music. "hey guys," Freddie spoke up loudly, trying to hide how happy he was to finally see the duo. "I talked with Rog," he said looking directly at John, who wasn't paying attention to him. at the mention of Roger's name though, his head perked right up. "he's being picked on at work, and sometimes they go as far as beating him up," Freddie sighed, "it's like fucking high school all over again,"

"I've seen bruises on him before Freddie," John spoke, concern in his voice. "he wouldn't tell me where they were from but they were bad, all over his face and sides, like those punks kicked him or something." John's tone switched from concerned to frustrated.

"next time you walk to his work beat them up," Brian said, only half joking. John and Freddie laughed at that comment, but they all knew Freddie might do it. anything for his friends.

"guys?!" as if on cue, Roger's loud ass voice echoed through the small flat.

"in here," Brian shouted as he stood up. he propped his pretty, red instrument on the couch and went off to the kitchen. Roger walked in with a cheeky grin on his face, but when he saw the look on John's face it faded quickly.

"what's wrong?" he asked looking around the room, trying to figure out when upset his flatmates so much. Freddie once again rested all his weight on one leg and placed a hand on his right hip. he looked at Roger and then at John.

"you're getting beat up at work Roger?" John asked, his tone was melancholy. Roger looked at Freddie angerly. like the latter wasn't supposed to say anything. but both Roger and Freddie knew that he wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut for long anyway. Roger looked down at his feet and nodded. it looked like he was too ashamed to verbally admit to what was going on. it was like a mother confronting her son about a porn stash she uncovered. "what the fuck Rog, why haven't you told us?" John asked he sounded slightly angry, but everyone in the room knew John could never be angry with Roger.

"he was scared we would think he's a pussy," Freddie said, shaking his head. John's mouth sat agape, he looked at Roger with a disappointed look on his face. Roger looked at John but said nothing.

"Rog, none of us could think you're a pussy," John said cringing at the word, the whole flat knew John refrained from saying words like _pussy_ and _cock_ , they made him uncomfortable for some reason. "you're so badass, I'm surprised you haven't died yet, like, you're a risk taker mate." John consoled his friend. "come here you dumbass," John patted the couch behind him, he was still sitting on the floor with his bass resting in his lap. Roger slowly walked over to the ugly sofa and plopped down on it, now his knees at John's neck level. Freddie noted the sexual tension between the two and laughed.

"oh just fuck already," he laughed and walked into the dining room so he could go talk to Brian.


	5. chapter five // john

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John discovers a strange, futuristic sight in his kitchen at 6:30 am and forces Roger to view it with him

_somewhere in London | Sunday morning | 2018_

John Deacon jerked up in bed, a nightmare tearing him from his sleep. the bunkbed he and Roger used moved slightly from the force of John moving. the brunette only noticed the sweat falling down his face when a drop of it fell into his lap. wavy, sweat-soaked bangs stuck to his forehead like they were glued down. "shit," John said aloud, but quietly. he didn't want to wake Roger. John couldn't describe how strange his dream was. it wasn't even that terrifying, it just ended with terrible things. and it was even more strange because John didn't have bad dreams. hell, he barely dreamed. the lanky male rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he let his body loosen up. he hadn't realised how tense he was until he moved his arms. his neck craned over to the analogue clock that sat near his _who_ posters. it read 6:32, that was the usual time he woke up, but he was never able to go back to sleep. John dragged himself down the ladder, his feet hitting each cold step. he has to be as quiet as possible, Roger would not be a happy person of John woke him up so early in the morning.

when John made it downstairs without waking any of his bandmates up, he slowly made his way to the small kitchen so he could prepare himself some tea. when he got in the tiny room though, things were extremely different. "what the fuck?" John asked no one, looking at the scenery around him. the kitchen was completely updated, everything but the tiled floor was utterly different. it looked as if some appliances elf came in overnight and gave them all futuristic technology. some of the appliances John eyed was stuff he'd never even seen before. the brunette wanted to go run up the stairs and grab Rog to see if the objects in front of him were real or a figment of his imagination. there was a possibility he was still sleeping, though he'd never sleepwalked before. John stood frozen for quite sometime before he went to go retrieve Roger from his bed, he needed to know if he was tripping or what he was seeing was real.

John tiptoed up the creaky, steep steps quickly as he neared his and Rog's room. he slid stealthily into the small bedroom, as he looked to his right he noticed something was off, there was a rectangular shaped object sitting on his desk, his _who_ posters rested right above it. John suspected it to be a computer, but computers were usually much bigger, and the band was nowhere near wealthy enough to afford one, they couldn't even buy dinner for a whole week. John looked around the tiny room, trying to find anything more peculiar about it, but in the dark, nothing was to be found. John tiptoed up to Roger's bed and shook him lightly, " _Roggie,_ " John whispered, shaking him more intensely. " _wake up, you twat, somethings off._ " John explained as he shook the other. Roger moaned into his pillow as he moved his body away from John's touch, apparently not wanting anything to do with his nonsense. " _Roger you damn slut, there are women in the kitchen, you called them last night telling them to meet you early in the morning, you must've been drunk as fuck because you told them 6:30 am, they're waiting for you."_ John lied. Roger instantly perked up from his sleep drained state.

"what?" Roger asked with a smirk threatening the corners of his mouth. John nodded, with a satisfied smile on his face. he knew that would work, Roger's easy like that. John grabbed Roger by the hand and lead him down the steep creak steps. instinctively they both tiptoed down, knowing how loud the stairs can get. John's felt his face heat up when he felt Roger's thumb caressing the palm of his rough hand. the drummer still had smooth fingers, since he didn't have to deal with the roughness of thick steel strings like John did. John smiled at the soothing touch of his mate, forgetting the anxiety that boiled up from the strange changes around the house and his strange dream. when the two reached the kitchen and there weren't any girls waiting for Roger, John received a death stare. "where are the three girls eh?" Roger asked, crossing his hands over his chest and jutting out his hip. John stifled a chuckle, the blonde in front of him looked like Freddie.

"there are no girls Rog," John scoffed, "I lied to get you into the kitchen so you could tell me if I'm losing my shit or not," John said, moving his arm to motion towards the still futuristic (in John's eyes) kitchen. Roger huffed, but removed his arms from his chest. the sassy blonde walked cautiously into the kitchen, not knowing what to expect. John, being behind him, couldn't see his reaction, but he was sure from his body language the other saw what he saw as well.

"what the fuck?" Roger asked, turning quickly to face John. John smiled, he was extremely relieved to know he wasn't going loony and that all his screws were just fine. "what's going on?!" Roger asked he seemed genuinely frantic, being way more dramatic than needed. John placed his large hands onto Roger's smaller shoulders. "calm down mate," John consoled the frantic blonde.

"I have no clue what's happening either but we can't wake the others with this until they wake." John, being a good mom friend (after Brian of course), tried his best to calm Roger. "hey, hey," he said, getting Roger's attention back, "why don't we go downstairs and play a bit of music yeah?" John suggested, music always calmed Roger down. when Roger complied John grabbed the blonde's hand and lead him to the stairs leading to his secret room. his face doing the same thing again when Roger started rubbing his soft thumb against John's calloused, rough, palm.

something about Roger made his heart whirl.


	6. chapter six // Roger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger, and John get alone time. Brian has a theory about the weird stuff going on. Freddie is a mom friend.

_somewhere in London | Sunday morning | 2018_

Roger Taylor was still freaking out about the changes that appeared around the house, but with his guardian angel, John Deacon, the latter was starting to calm down. ten minutes prior he had been woken up by a slightly dazed brunette, promising him girls downstairs. though he didn't really want to do anything with _girls_ , Roger acted as such and excitedly followed his friend down the creaky stairs, hand in hand with the lovely John. Roger was sure he fancied the other, but he had no clue how to show genuine feeling towards another. he normally gets drunk, shags some slag that won't stop clinging to him, and never looks back. but right now, he's actually catching sincere feelings.

as Roger was lead down the second set of stairs in the flat, John grabbed his hand again. the blondes face burned up and he thanked whatever kind of god there was that is was nearly pitch black in the stairwell. Roger rubbed his thumb lovingly against John's rough guitar hand, feeling the other tense up for a second and then loosen back into his touch. Roger's smug smile faded when the two had gotten down to the entrance of John's secret hiding place. the whole room was like the kitchen, completely updated. even John's guitar amp was bigger and more advanced. with a look around the room, Roger's anxiety heightened, forcing him to let go of John's hand and wobble to the nearest couch. "what the fuck is going on John?" Roger asked before putting his hands in his face. at first, the changes were just confusing to the two, but now it was worrying to the latter. John shook his head and sighed.

"I have no idea Roggie," John said as he walked slowly over to the frantic other. his presence was comforting enough. John put his slim arm around the smaller male and pulled him into a tight hug. "when Brian and Fred wake up we can talk to them about this okay?" John asked. his voice was soft and consoling. Roger looked up to John with wide eyes and nodded pitifully. " let's try and sleep, yeah?" John suggested as he positioned himself to have Roger laying on top of him. John felt Roger nod into his chest, clarifying the question John has asked. the brunette chuckled, the vibrations from his chest tickled Roger's face and he let out a girlish giggle. the two fell asleep almost instantly. which was a first for John in a while.

**///**

Roger woke up with a jolt, almost falling off the couch he seemed to have dozed off on. he heard his and John's names being called, but he couldn't really piece together what was going on. when the blonde finally woke up a bit he looked at his surroundings. John was underneath him, sleeping soundly, his chest moving up and down slowly. Roger laid on top of the other, but he still had no clue where he was. he looked around him and flashbacks of the night before came at an overwhelming speed. he remembered _the kitchen, the hand holding, the anxiety attack, the futuristic shit._ "holy fuck," Roger said quietly as he slowly climbed off the sleeping John. once he was on his feet he bent down and rested his hands on John's shoulders, lightly shaking him. "hey John, John," he whisper-shouted, "wake up you sod," Roger's shaking got more aggressive as the latter ignored his pleas to wake. John too woke with a jolt, nearly knocking Roger off his feet.

" _what_?!" John hissed. then he realised what he was doing and his expression softened. "uh, sorry, I'm just - where are we?" he asked looking around, a furrow appeared in his brow.

"your hideout basement thing?" Roger answered, sitting next to John on the couch they had fallen asleep on. John seemed to remember things just as quickly as Roger did because before Roger could respond John was racing up the basement steps, turning left and then disappearing. Roger laughed at his mate's reaction but followed the latter. he darted quickly up the stairs, going to at a time like a madman. at first, Roger was expecting the kitchen to be back to normal, and what he and John were seeing the night before was just side effects from too much alcohol. but considering John's basement was the same as the night before, Roger suspected that would apply for the kitchen as well. when the sleepy blonde reached the top of the staircase and took a left into the kitchen he was met with two confused looks and a guilty looking John.

"and where were you two?" Freddie asked, annoyance in this tone, and a hand rested sassily on his hip. Brian nodded, agreeing with Freddie's question. John looked longingly at Roger as if to say _you tell them I don't want to_ , Roger scoffed.

"John woke me up at 6:30 last night freaking out, he told me something was wrong with the kitchen and, he was right," Roger started, looking to Freddie's left to look at the futuristic-looking kitchen. "and we came downstairs, looked at it, and I freaked out because I'm a pussy," Roger said, looking at John when he said it. John looked at him with a stern face, clearly not happy with the name calling. "and John comforted me and we fell asleep on a couch. why aren't you guys more worried about our kitchen?" Roger asked, trying to steer away from more talk about John, his face was starting to heat up.

"I am concerned about the kitchen but I wanted to make sure you two lovebirds were okay first," Freddie said making gestures with his hands every once in a while. Brian laughed at the sentence but John's death glare shut him up quickly.

"well we're fine," John piped up, "but what the fuck is going on," he questioned, looking at Brian, the brains of the four. Brian shook his head.

"I have no clue. and what I'm about to say sounds completely fucking ridiculous. but-" he stops, and thinks. _"but I think we're in the future."_

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy!!!!


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